


Like you've discovered something you don't even have a name for

by girlwiththebooks



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Queer Amy Santiago, Queer Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-09-01
Packaged: 2018-04-18 13:41:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4708031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlwiththebooks/pseuds/girlwiththebooks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amy Santaigo is not the type of girl to have a crush.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like you've discovered something you don't even have a name for

**Author's Note:**

> Hey so this was battered out over a few days. It's unbetaed and I'm sure there are some mistakes in there. Let me know if you spot any :)
> 
> Title is from 'You Are Jeff' by Richard Siken

You are six years old the first time you have a crush. Max Wainwright is eight years old and best friends with your older brother Stuart. He gives you an old colouring book of his and you are very impressed at the three pictures he has coloured in. Neatly within the lines and appropriate colour use. You take to pulling out the picture book whenever he is around and showing him your colouring skills. He gives you faint smiles and weird looks until Stuart hustles you out of the room. Three months later you discover that the book belonged to his older cousin and that Max has no interest in colouring within the lines. Your heart breaks a little and you hide away every time he comes over until his family move to California a few months later. 

Your next real crush comes when you start middle school. Sam Maddison is thirteen years old and the most efficient Hall Monitor you have ever seen in your life. You take to following him around the school trying to understand what the twisty feeling in your stomach means. After a month, you catch him letting his friends wander the halls without a hall pass. You confront him about it and he laughs in your face. Your hands form into fists and you march away from him, tears stinging your eyes. 

The next year, Louise May is the hall monitor and you take to following her about too. Louise treats you like a younger sister and shows you how to correctly colour coordinate your notes from class. She doesn't make fun of you for taking notes or knowing the Dewy Decimal system or not having any friends. The  
feeling in your stomach comes back. When Louise asks you what's wrong, you shyly tell her about the twisty feeling. She smiles kindly and introduces you to the word bisexual. And pansexual. And asexual. And demisexual. And so many phrases and definitions that it makes your head spin. You want to rush to the library and find every book you can and do proper colour-coded research. A few days later when Louise is escorting a boy out of the hall, you get the twisty feeling in your stomach again. You take a deep breath in and think “oh”.

When you start high school you cling to the word bisexual like a life raft. Amy Santiago. Latina, Bisexual, Teacher’s Pet. You skirt along the outside of your year group – all a year older (a gap that seemed to matter so much more in high school than anywhere else). You eat lunch with the band kids –more out of necessity than any real desire to make friends. High school passes without incident. You rarely talk to anyone long enough to develop a crush. You get through high school firm in the belief that no matter what, college will be better. You ignore the lonely feeling in your heart and the way that bisexual is starting to feel like a too small blanket – not quite enough to cover everything. 

Your first day at college, you meet Kylie. She’s from California and practically falls into the seat next to you 15 minutes before your first Art History lecture. She has yellow paint in her hair and an odd combination of pink and green on her denim dungarees. She looks disorganised and harassed. You feel instantly enamoured. She turns to grin at you as she introduces herself. You chat until the lecture starts and go for lunch together after. You get the twisty feeling every time she grins. When she asks if you have a boyfriend, the words “I’m bisexual” slip out. It's the first time you've ever told anyone. Your heart races, your palms sweat and you panic that you have lost your first ever real friend. But Kylie just nods and asks about a girlfriend. You shake your head with a laugh. 

Over time, your crush on Kylie dissipates. She still makes you laugh and smile and the two of you are talking of getting an apartment together but now, the relationship is completely platonic. You’re glad in a way. The thought of not being friends with Kylie is unbearable – she makes sure you eat and stop studying every so often. You’re pretty sure you’d be alone without her. Kylie is the one who encourages you to go to your very first LGBTQIA meeting where you meet Mark Andrews and discover the word “queer”. It fits you in a way bisexual never did, it's vagueness embracing your confusing sexuality. Mark fits you as well. He's the first crush you have that becomes an actual real proper boyfriend. Mark is exciting and disorganised and reckless and spontaneous and so many other things you aren't. He makes you forget, just for a little while, about college and work and your overwhelming family. The two of you fight sometimes. Screaming at each other about plans and schedules and you being too uptight, too sensible and him being too selfish, too irresponsible. You always make up but sometimes the fights niggle at you for days after. But he makes you smile and that's what counts. He dies two days after you move in together. It's a freak accident – an air conditioning unit falls and strikes him as he walks down the street. You tell Kylie the whole thing is ridiculous in between sobs. A completely ridiculous death for a completely ridiculous man. 

You don't go on any dates for years after Mark dies. You can't look at anyone without thinking of him. When you finally let Kylie set you up on a date again, you’re a police officer. You smile and laugh your way through dinner but end the night on a handshake. You go home and throw up the meal you had forced down your throat. You know logically that Mark would want you to be happy but you can't process it. You persevere. Amy Sanitago does not back down from obstacles. You get up to five dates with Quinta from Manhattan but ultimately the two of you decide to be friends. You keep waiting for the twisty feeling to return but it never does. 

When you meet Teddy on the police codes course you immediately feel a connection. For the first time in years, the twisty feeling is back. When he asks you out you feel a small thrill run down your spine. Despite this, when you eventually decide to call it off, you don't feel too heartbroken. You're pretty sure you felt worse when Sam Maddison betrayed the Sacred Code of Hall Monitors. 

The next time you see Teddy, he’s moved precincts and a relationship is actually a viable option. You say yes on a whim, remembering how enjoyable your previous dates had been. You go on one date and another and another until the two of you are official. Teddy is sweet and safe and easy. The two of you don't fight at all, you have similar taste in TV shows and movies (although he refuses to watch anything cop centric – you don't know how you feel about that), you both play by the rules and he lets you complain about Jake for as long as you like (you try not to think about that time that he tried to agree with you and you shut him down cruelly and swiftly. He doesn't try and join in again.). 

You feel like your whole life stops when Jake confesses he likes you. Romantic stylez. You go home and try to think of what to tell Teddy. When he casually mentions at dinner that he always had suspicions about Jake, you lose it. You start to shout at him but catch yourself. You storm out his apartment clutching your phone. You need…you need…you need someone who gets this. Gets Jake. You grit your teeth and call Rosa. She rattles off an address and hangs up. When you get to her apartment, she thrusts a margarita in your hand and leads you to the couch. You watch Survivor and get drunk together. Eventually you start telling stories about him. You throw tales back and forth until the two of you fall asleep. The next morning you scrawl thanks on a napkin and head home. You call Teddy and apologise. He forgives you emphatically and you breath a sigh of relief. Teddy is safe territory. 

It's a few months after Jake gets back that you realise you've lost the twisty feeling when you see Teddy. You suspect it's the pilsners. (It can't be-it mustn't be-you don't want it to be-). You try and plan the break up but of course Jake puts a spanner in the works. When Teddy reveals your feelings for Jake at dinner you freeze. You thought you had been so careful. So quiet. It didn't count. The feelings you had were admiration. Mostly. 

After the mess that is your break up with Teddy, you swear off cops. For good. Even idiotic bambi-eyed detectives that have stupidly unhealthy eating habits. When Jake admits he wanted to ask you out, you freeze,, despite your best attempts to compartmentalise. You fight it down. You can't risk everything you've worked so hard for. You agree to be professional and ignore the voice in you head that sounds suspiciously like Kylie telling you to go for it. To grab him and kiss him and-.

After everything, after Johnny and Dora and kisses and confessions, after Holt announcing his departure, you retreat to the evidence locker. You know that he’ll come find you, that he'll want to check on you. Jake Peralta is consistent. He's steadfast and trustworthy and utterly, utterly absurd. He finds you and you desperately drop hints, hoping and praying. 

When he kisses you everything stops. You are Jake and Amy and that is all that matters. You break apart and look at him and think “oh”.


End file.
